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For the longest time, Lucy hated looking in the mirror.
The months leading up to her escape from the Heartfilia Manor, Lucy would look in glass and see her father staring back at her.
They had the same scowl, the same brown eyes, and the same blond hair. Lucy had grown it out in the hopes of looking more like her mother, but persistently, Jude Heartfilia was all she could see.
She’d try to smile, but the expression was too pained, more like a grimace that still made her look like her father.
Everyday, when she snapped at her friends and guildmates when their antics became too much, she internally cringed at how much she sounded like him, which resulted in a few too many apologies that had everyone reassuring her that everything was okay.
But it wasn’t okay. For years, Lucy had been terrified of getting her father’s temper. Scared and frustrated at the idea that their similarities didn’t just end at appearances.
She’d vowed then to never have children. Desperate to do anything to avoid the same mistakes her father did, she decided to stop the poison from spreading at the source. Before she could talk herself out of it, she went to a doctor and demanded to have herself sterilized. Within a week, she was recovering from having her tubes tied.
She hadn’t told anyone about it, not even Natsu. Still, she knew he could tell something was different. On her second day of recovery, Natsu appeared at her window. She played it off the best she could, lying and telling him that she was just sick. He asked her if she’d been to the hospital, and when she asked what he meant, he wrinkled his nose and explained she smelled like chemicals.
“Oh,” Lucy said. “Yeah. I just went in to make sure it wasn’t the flu or anything serious.” She hoped he couldn’t tell if she was lying. SHe didn’t want to lie, she hated lying, but what was she going to say? Yeah, I got myself sterilized so I couldn’t continue the cycle of shitty parenting. You understand, right?
Fat chance.
She found out that he’d told the rest of the guild she was sick, because over the next week-and-a-half, her guildmates stopped by to make sure she was feeling okay.
Mirajane came by with a container of homemade chicken noodle soup. When Lucy tried it, it tasted just like the soup she used to have back at the estate whenever she was sick and didn’t know whether to cry or throw it away.
Wendy timidly knocked with Carla behind her, offering her healing services. Lucy declined as kindly as she could. Before they went, Wendy made a passing comment about her place smelling differently. Carla had given Lucy a look she could only describe as knowing and it made her nauseous.
Erza strode through the door as if she owned the place with a basket of baked goods she’d purchased at a farmers’ market. There apparently had been a cake too, but some fiend stole it. Lucy was sure Erza just couldn’t help herself and ate it.
Levy had thankfully left Gajeel behind when she visited with a small bag of books. She’d offered to read them to Lucy, but after taking one look at a book with a particularly racey cover and title, Lucy knew she would die of embarrassment if she had someone else read to her. Levy brushed aside Lucy’s hair in a motherly fashion, then took Lucy’s newest chapter with her when she left.
She’d been eighteen then, only at Fairy Tail for just under a year. At the time, she’d barely known her friends, and yet they’d been such a big part of her life.
Then they went to Tenrou Island, and Lucy saw, for the first time, what a loving father looked like.
While Makarov had been a kind of surrogate father-figure to Lucy, it was different seeing the way Gildarts wrapped his arms around Cana and wept.
Jealousy burned in her stop, hot and all consuming. While Natsu and Happy watched on with shocked faces, Lucy tore herself away and went back to their make-shift camp.
Why had she been able to have that? Why had been stuck with a dead beat who’d only cared that she even existed when he’d finally lost everything?
And why did she still want it so badly?
After those seven years, and Lucy found out that Jude had passed, she grieved. Of course she grieved. And yet, there was a sense of relief. The Heartfilia blood would die with her. She was the last poisonous apple tucked amongst the roots of a toxic tree. She didn’t voice that relief; she didn’t want to.
And then she saw the presents. Seven. One for each year she was gone. Sent without fail.
Lucy remembered a time when her room had been filled with expensive presents. Back when the staff would lie and tell her the gifts came from Jude.
She thought again of Gildarts and Cana.
And she sobbed.
“What about you, Lucy?”
Lucy lifted her head to meet Mirajane’s cool blue gaze.
“What?” She asked.
“Wow,” Gray said slowly, “you’re not one to usually space out. What gives?”
“Nothing.” Lucy said quickly.
“We were talking about kids.” Mira said, and Lucy’s stomach dropped. “And how many we’d want.”
Lucy squirmed in her seat. “Oh.” She thought about lying and just spouting out a random number, but looking around, Lucy knew that wasn’t possible; these people had been her family for so long. If they didn’t find out she was lying, she’d feel guilty until she spilled everything. So why not just come out with it?
“I . . .” she swallowed. “I actually can’t have kids.”
Mira’s face softened and she placed a warm hand over Lucy’s. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Lucy snorted. “I got my tubes tied, like, years ago.” Everyone surrounding her lifted their heads, including Natsu.
“When?” Erza asked. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
Lucy twirled her straw around her glass. “Do you remember that week I was bed-ridden and I told you guys I was sick?” She found it suddenly hard to meet their gazes.
“Why didn’t you just tell us the truth?” Gray asked.
Lucy dropped her head on the table. She should’ve known this would happen. “I didn’t know you guys all that well back then, and you guys are nosy. I figured at least a few of you would pester me for reasons and I didn’t want to have to explain myself.” She didn’t miss the way Gray shot a look in Natsu’s direction. She shot Gray her own look and he looked away.
It didn’t take long for the conversation to pick up again and for Mira to swoon over how cute Gray’s and Juvia’s kids would look, which resulted in Juvia melting into a literal puddle.
A new relief had settled over Lucy. She felt lighter, not having to keep that to herself anymore.
Natsu was quiet, but Lucy couldn’t bring herself to go to him. While she’d been in love with him for a long time now, she refused to do anything about it.
The realization had been soft, a warm hand caressing you awake to greet the new sun. She’d been sitting at her desk, writing, when she realized all the aspects of the protagonist’s love interest created one Natsu Dragneel. Her quill stilled, and she stared at the paper.
“Oh,” she’d said. “Shit.”
Now she was certain it would never work out between them. Natsu was the type to want a big family. A house filled to the brim with giggling kids and plenty of chaos.
Lucy couldn’t give him that. She wouldn’t.
She refused.
He was equally as quiet when she found him that night, sitting at her desk, holding a picture of Lucy’s mother.
“Okay, now I’m worried.” Lucy said. “You’re too quiet.” She’d gotten used to him breaking into her place, barely even acknowledging it now.
“Just thinking.” Natsu hummed. Lucy was reminded again of how much Natsu had changed over that year he was gone. Much of him was still the same, but now and again there was a demeanor shift that Lucy was slowly getting used to.
“About what?” Natsu rose from the chair, placing the picture back in its spot.
“Life, I guess.” He said with a shrug. “What Mira and the others were talking about earlier got stuck in my head.”
“I’m not surprised.” Lucy admitted. “You seem the type.” She moved from the door to the kitchen, hoping that Natsu hadn’t taken all of her food.
“Type of what?” Natsu asked.
“Just the type that would want kids, I suppose.” Lucy peered into the fridge, settling on a small carton of strawberries and a block of cheese.
“Oh.” When Lucy turned around, Natsu’s brows were scrunched together. “No, actually.”
“Really?” She sifted through her drawer for a knife and began to cut thin slices from the cheese.
“Yeah. It’s not like I hate kids or think I would be a shit dad—” Lucy tried not to wince “—just not my thing, you know?” He snatched a strawberry.
“Yeah,” Lucy said. She fought against the burn in the back of her eyes. Natsu turned to look at the picture of Layla again.
“It’s kind of freaky how much alike you guys look.” He said. “You, Anna, and your mom could all be triplets or something if it weren’t for the whole timeline thing. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that.”
“You think so?” Lucy asked absently. “I always thought I took after my dad.”
Natsu looked at her as if she’d grown a second head. “Are you kidding me? I’ve seen your dad, you two look nothing alike. I mean, you have the same blond hair, but you also have the same blond hair as your mom. Don’t you find it weird that your parents have the same color eyes and hair? Are you sure there’s no . . .” He trailed off, interlacing his fingers together with a puffed out mouth.
“I’m not an incest baby,” Lucy sighed, “if that’s what you’re implying.”
“ What ?” Natsu asked in a squeaky voice. “No, no I wasn’t implying anything like that.” He stuffed a handful of cheese in his mouth, presumably to shut himself up. Lucy set her knife down, her eyes locked on her hands.
“Do you really think I look like my mom?” She asked finally.
“Absolutely.” Natsu swallowed in a loud gulp. “Has no one ever told you that before?” He made it sound like the idea was insane. Like it was obvious that Lucy and Layla looked alike.
“No,” she denied softly. “No one’s ever said that before.” The burn in the back of her eyes was back, causing her nose to tingle and water to well over her eyelids. Almost embarrassed by her tears, Lucy fell into her hands, hiding.
“Woah!” Natsu said. “Hey, what’s wrong?” His hand was warm against her trembling back. The rest of his warmth enveloped her when she collapsed against him and sobbed. Each hiccuping gasp felt like something was coming unstuck from her chest. A clog she didn’t know was there finally slipping free.
“Thank you.” She whispered. “That means a lot.”